


But he couldn't be saved, no he couldn't be saved.

by SurpassTheStars



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: ? I think, Angst, Being a dad of 3 must suck, Canonical Character Death, Dave | Technoblade and Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, Dream Smp, Family Dynamics, Featuring Chat As ‘The Voices’, Insane Wilbur Soot, Poor Phil, Spoilers for the second dream smp war, Villain Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:00:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27605954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SurpassTheStars/pseuds/SurpassTheStars
Summary: L’manberg had made everyone suffer, so Wilbur decides that he, at the very least, owes them this.
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 126





	But he couldn't be saved, no he couldn't be saved.

**Author's Note:**

> this is a dramatic rewrite of when phil joined the server and wilbur blew it up :] 
> 
> Title from a sadness runs through him by the hoosiers
> 
> follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/M3MENTOMORl) and have fun <33

Wilbur snuck out of the gathering, it was easier than he expected, everyone was too busy celebrating a bloodied victory, one they didn’t deserve. They were loud but the voices were louder.

_Blow it up._

_BLOW IT UP._

He hears Tubbo giving his speech standing up on the podium, Wilbur didn’t think he’d go up on the podium with the aftermath of the festival was still etched into it but he did, he heard the sound of Tommy cheering him on and Wilbur reluctantly realised this is the first time he’s heard Tommy sound his age, so carefree, in a long time.

He tried not to dwell on his brother, he had more important things to focus on. Tubbo’s L’manberg, it’s no longer his, it was never his, His ears were ringing and he had to get out of there.

_Get rid of it._

_No more L’manberg. No more Manberg._

_BLOW IT UP._

Wilbur got out his pickaxe, quickly mining the cobblestone to get inside the man-made room behind the podium. His footsteps echoed down the dark hallway, unhurried and feigning confidence despite how cold it was unlike the warmth that radiated outside.

The room was hushed, the second you stepped foot in it the outside world would fall deaf to your ears, leaving you accompanied by nothing but your footsteps and own breathing. A reminder that, at the very end, you are alone and you will always be. 

His footsteps slowly came to a halt, just outside the room, any closer and he’ll start hearing them outside. Wilbur knew he would hear the sounds of triumph from his comrades, those who once were his friends, if he stepped into that room he would cut off those sounds. Yet, he thinks adding a few explosions would tie the song of this rebellion together quite nicely, finishing his symphony so no one else can attempt to.

Cracking a small smile he walked forward from the doorway to the room, quickly walking to stand in front of the button. The revolution, the war for independence, it was for nothing. It was all for naught.

_L’manberg is nothing anymore._

_BLOW IT UP._

_BLOW IT UP._

**_BLOW IT UP._ **

This isn’t _his_ country, it wasn’t the thing _he_ worked on. It’s tainted, bloodied and ripped, painted in black that covered all its once vivid colours. This L’manberg isn’t the L’manberg he knew and he had to get rid of it, start over, a blank slate to make it better.

The L’manberg he fought tooth and nail for didn’t have traitors, it didn’t have a black flag and a call for anarchy, it didn’t take everything he had and everything he sacrificed only to turn its back on him. This isn’t his L’manberg, this is Manberg however many name changes and upgrades it got. L’manberg died with the betrayal of Eret, it died when the elections were held, and it died when it _threw him out._

_L’manberg is dead._

_Kill it._

_Get rid of the traitors._

_KILL IT._

_BLOW IT UP._

_GET RID OF IT._

It’s poetic, isn’t it? He built L’manberg from the ground up and now he’s going to be the one tearing it back down. There’s no point in a broken nation. 

His hand started moving towards the button, for a second he hesitated. The face of his son and his family flashed in his mind, then the hesitation was gone and he moved his hand faster towards the button.

“Wilbur,” He froze, “what are you doing.” 

_No._

_No No No._

_NO._

_IGNORE HIM. GET RID OF IT._

_BLOW IT UP._

Despite everything, he turned around to be met with the face of his father, frown so deep it looked unnatural on his face. He smiled coldly.

“Phil.”

“What are you doing.”

_Phil?_

_DON'T LET HIM STOP YOU._

_Dad?_

_BLOW IT UP._

Wilbur shook his head and let out a hollow chuckle. “Tell me, Phil. Have you heard the song on the walls? Have you?”

“I know what that button does, Wilbur.” Phil stepped into the room wings loosening up from their position in the narrow hallway.

He ignored his words, instead smiling at Phil before continuing. “I was just saying I made this big point. It was poignant and it was- um there was a special place where men could go— but it's not there anymore it's not.”

“But it is, Wil. You just won it back, haven’t you?”

_No._

_ITS GONE._

_FINISH THE JOB._

Wilbur broke out in laughter, not his usual one full of warmth and familiarity, it was maniacal, full of sharp edges you could cut yourself on and cold bitter winds that drown you in sorrow. This isn’t Wilbur, he isn’t his son.

The laughter died down ending with a crazed giggling sigh, then he heard the sound of battle outside, fireworks and swords so loud you could hear them from inside the room they sat in. “Phil. I’m always so close to pressing the button– _so close._ I’ve been here– I’ve been here seven or eight times. _Seven or eight times_ , Phil. I’ve been here so many times, can’t you hear them? They’re fighting. They’re fighting, Phil.”

Phil did, and he hates how close it sounds, he hates how he could hear Tommy’s battle cry, he hates how he can hear the aftermath of Techno’s footsteps, the pleas, the swords, _the fireworks._ “And you want to blow it up.”

“I do. I think–“

“You’ve fought so hard to get this land back- so hard, Wilbur.”

Wilbur shook his head and went back to get closer to the button, hand not reaching up just yet. “You don’t get it do you? L’manberg is supposed to be a place of freedom and harmony, they’re fighting again. I owe this to them.” His hand once again raised to hover over the button. “I don't even know if this works anymore, Phil. I don’t know if the button works, I could– I could press it.”

_GET RID OF IT._

_LET IT DIE._

_KILL IT._

“Do you really want to take the risk? There’s a lot of explosives potentially connected to that button, Wil. It would blast this whole place to smithereens.”

Phil didn’t miss the twinkle in his eyes when he mentioned the TNT. “Phil. There was a saying, Phil, by a traitor once a part of L’manberg, a traitor I’m not sure you’ve heard of, Eret.”

“Wilbur–“

_Blow it up._

_BLOW IT UP._

_GET RID OF IT._

_KILL IT._

“He has a saying, Phil. _It was never meant to be_.” He slammed his hand onto the button, crumbling to the ground as if all the fight had left him. Phil heard the faint sound of hissing reacting on instinct and pulling Wilbur to his chest and shielding them both with his wings.

The sound of explosions was defending, Wilbur was quiet but they both could hear the shouts of panic outside, the room shook and the front wall fell away piling into rubble at the base of the mountain. When the explosions stopped, Wilbur rose pushing away from the hold of his father and looking out of the hole made by the explosives and into the battlefield that once was L’manberg.

_NO MORE L’MANBERG._

_NO MORE SUFFERING._

_ITS GONE._

_it’s gone._

_it's gone. It's gone. It’s gone. It's gone._

“It’s _my_ L’manberg, Phil! My unfinished symphony, forever unfinished! I finished it! If I can’t have this no one can, Phil!” Tears were dripping down Wilbur’s face, but that crazed smile only got wider and Phil wished he could recognise his son.

Wilbur walked back to Phil, unsheathing his diamond sword that glowed with enchantment and handed it to his father, who hesitantly held it.

“Wilbur, please-“

He used his hand to angle the sharp blade towards his liver, the blade cutting into his palm as he pushed it into place. “I want you to kill me, Phil. Kill me, Phil. Phil– stab me with this sword, murder me now. Do it, kill me.”

“ _Wilbur–“_

“Kill me, Phil. Look at them! They all want you to do it, Phil, kill me.” 

Phil’s hand shook, he wanted to drop the sword and cradle Wilbur the same way he did when he and his brothers were just children who's biggest worries were if they’d get to play outside that day and not war and betrayals. 

He wanted to protect him against everything he had suffered through. Wilbur had tears running down his face and Phil could feel tears start to drip out. “Wilbur, you’re my son! I can’t just–“

“Phil, _kill me.”_

_DAD._

_END IT._

_KILL. KILL. KILL._

“No matter what you do– what you’ve done. You’re still my _son,_ I can’t–“

“Phil this isn’t– is– look!” he gestured to the open hole in the room, where he could see everyone struggling to help eachother out of the rubble, a bloodied Eret carrying a crying Tubbo whose face was caked with dirt and blood. Tommy being supported by Niki, arm bent unnaturally. Techno was farther away, face stoic but helping Fundy get his leg from under rubble.

“Look! How much work went into this and it’s gone! I hurt them! Do it, Phil. If you’ve ever been my father, fucking kill me.” 

Phil looked into his son’s eyes, distant and full of madness and dove the sword into him, swiftly and deadly before throwing it aside. He held onto Wilbur, both of them crumbling to the ground, and put him into his lap covering them both by his wings again.

“I’m so sorry, Wil. You deserve better than this.” He whispered, running his hand through Wilbur’s dirtied hair. Wilbur’s hand reached to hold it and drag it to Wilbur’s cheek.

“It’s okay, Dad.”


End file.
